


talking it over (just the two of us)

by stirringsofconsciousness



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bughead fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, jughead thinks about food like a pregnant woman, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13584312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stirringsofconsciousness/pseuds/stirringsofconsciousness
Summary: Betty and Jughead have been together for years. They love each other. He's got a ring in his pocket. All he has to do is have a simple conversation with her parents. What could go wrong?





	talking it over (just the two of us)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from The Carpenters' "We've Only Just Begun", which you can listen to here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64Mpe9OLJBI 
> 
> (title suggested by village_skeptic, who is a vivacious rainbow of joy)

Jughead pushed the remains of his second helping of Alice Cooper’s excellent brunch around on his plate, wondering if it would be a good move to go for a third. _Probably not._

Across the table from him, Betty made a show of checking the time. “Oh, I almost forgot, Polly wanted me to stop by and see the twins now,” she said to her parents, at opposite ends of the table. “Jughead, do you want to come with us?” She widened her eyes at him.

“No, I, ah, I wanted to talk to your parents a little more. You can pick me up later, Betts.” Hal and Alice exchanged significant looks. “The car’s all packed and everything, it won’t take long.”

Betty flashed him a smile as she gave her parents hugs goodbye. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered in his ear as she pecked him on the cheek.

“You’re surprisingly positive,” Jughead grumbled.

“That’s because I get to leave,” Betty grinned wickedly. “See you later,” she said in a louder voice. “Bye Mom, bye Dad!”

The door closed. Jughead hunched down a little lower in his seat.

“Why don’t you come into the parlor, Jug Head?” Alice asked, pronouncing his name in the way that only Alice could, halfway between parody and disgust.

_Of course they want to do this in the parlor._  Jughead regretfully abandoned his plate, picked up his messenger bag, and followed Hal into the parlor, a little-used room that embodied the 1950s even more than the rest of the house did.

Hal and Alice settled down on a pristine white couch. Jughead gingerly eased himself onto a flowered armchair that was even less comfortable than it looked.

There was a long, long pause. Jughead shifted position three times.

“Do you know how to get back to Boston?” Hal asked suddenly. “I could print you out directions if you want.”

“Uh, no, I’m good, we have GPS,” Jughead said, taken aback. “It’s basically just a straight shot east on I-90, anyway.”

“ _Hal_ ,” Alice said, a smile still affixed to her face, “Jughead has something to talk to us about. Let’s let him _talk_.”

Jughead swallowed. “So, ah. Betty and I -- we’ve been together for a long time now. We’ve both finished college, we’re living together, we’re…” He was taken aback by the way that Alice and Hal were hanging on his every word, paying him more attention than he’d ever received from them before. He had a fleeting urge to raise his hand and gesture, to see if their heads would follow.

“Go on, Jug Head,” Alice said. Hal nodded vigorously.

The weight of the ring he’d bought two weeks before was heavy in his pocket. “We live together, we have good jobs, we love each other, and uh -- I wanted to let you know, I’m going to ask her to marry me soon.” Alice and Hal sat back, tension seeping from their bodies, then coiling back inside of them. “That’s all.”

Another very long pause. Jughead’s stomach gurgled. Too little food, or too much? That was the question.

“Don’t you have anything else to ask?” Hal said finally.

Jughead thought hard. He’d covered college graduation, good jobs, love, what else? _Oh, right._  “Betty wanted to ask if you still had the recipe for cherries jubilee, I think? But you can email that over to her.”

“Not about that,” Alice said irritably. “Don’t you have something you want to _ask Hal_?”

Jughead blinked. Hal Cooper had always been something of a nonentity, barely interfering in his and Betty’s relationship -- barely seeming to be present, honestly. “Uh, if he wants to take a look at the car before we head out, he can, but I just got the oil changed a couple of weeks ago -- “

Alice’s jaw was set, her teeth gritted. “Don’t you want to ask his _permission to marry Betty_?”

“Oh!” Jughead said. “No, not at all.” Another very long pause. Pregnant pauses, he’d heard them called before. He hoped Alice and Hal weren’t thinking about that. He should probably talk more. "I mean, it’s not like Betty needs permission from you to do anything anymore, except maybe renting a car. She’s an adult, I’m an adult, we live independently -- you don’t think she should be asking permission from my dad, right?”

“No one would ever ask your father for anything, Jug Head, except maybe directions to the nearest half-price liquor store,” Alice snapped.

“Are you saying you don’t care about receiving our blessing?” Hal asked, rapidly turning red.

“It would be nice,” Jughead shrugged. “But it’s not exactly essential. I’m mainly here to give you the heads-up.”

Hal was now closer to puce than red, while Alice’s lips were pressed so thin that he could barely see her lipliner. Jughead figured it was probably better to short-circuit the eventual eruption.

“I came here as a courtesy to tell you my intentions. I’m going to ask Betty to marry me. Whatever answer she gives is up to her. If you have a problem with this, well...speak now or forever hold your peace.” Jughead stood up, picked up his bag, and made his way to the door.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Alice’s voice thundered.

Jughead paused at the door and shrugged. “I said you could speak now. I didn’t say I would listen.”

As he left, he heard the Coopers’ voices rang behind him in astonished harmony. Jughead took a moment to text Betty -- _could’ve gone better_  -- and walked next door to greet Mr. Andrews and nab some more breakfast from him.

\---

Betty pulled up to Mr. Andrews’ house an hour later. Even before he’d entered the car, Jughead could smell the heavenly scent of Pop’s takeout.

“I think my parents were already calling me to complain before you even left the house,” Betty said dryly, though her green eyes were dancing. “They are not exactly, how do you say, thrilled with you. Or me, for that matter.”

Jughead stopped trying to buckle himself in to the passenger seat and leaned over to give Betty a one-armed hug. “Sorry, Betts. You okay?”

Betty nodded. “Half a decade of therapy and setting boundaries has really helped.” She grinned impishly. “Plus, it’s always fun to hear my mom call you, what was the phrase, a ‘disrespectful gangbanger.’”

“Ouch. That hurts.”

“I told Polly,” Betty said in a softer tone. “She’s happy for us.”

“I told Mr. Andrews, too,” Jughead admitted. “I’m surprised Archie hadn’t already spilled the beans."

"He probably has," Betty considered, "but Mr. Andrews is good at playing along.”

Jughead fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the wide silver ring he’d purchased two weeks before. He held it up to the light for a moment before sliding it onto his left ring finger. Betty’s matching set -- one similar silver band, one smaller silver band with a single diamond on it -- were already back on her own left hand. “Well, Mrs. Cooper-Jones, shall we drive?”

“Sure, Mr. Cooper-Jones. But first, since we didn’t have a chance to stop there together…” Betty twisted in her seat and retrieved two milkshakes, handing him the chocolate and keeping a strawberry one for herself.

Jughead held up his milkshake solemnly. “Here’s to the chillest elopement ever.”

Betty mimicked him. “Here’s to Veronica, for pulling her family strings and getting us a free honeymoon.”

“Here’s to Kevin, the best minister that the Universal Life Church could produce on a two-hour notice.”

“And here's to Archie, for serenading us throughout the ceremony.”

“Next time, we make sure he’s actually _heard_  of the songs we like first.”

Betty raised an eyebrow. “ _Next_ time, Mr. Cooper-Jones?”

“Yeah, I figure since this was fun, we can get married every year. If we want.”

“Do we ever invite our parents to these annual celebrations?”

Jughead shrugged. “Maybe when we have kids, so they can baby-sit.”

A wide smile spread across Betty’s face. “ _When_?”

“Well, yeah, I leave the timing up to you. Though if you want to practice, I’m ready any time, the back seat looks nice...”

Betty giggled. “Let’s get back to our apartment first. Where there’s a bed, and the pillows we like, and much less embarrassment if anyone catches us.”

Betty moved to start the ignition, but Jughead grabbed her hand first. “Before we go -- I told your parents I was going to ask, and I don’t want to be a liar. So.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Will you marry me, Betty Cooper-Jones?”

“Every day, Jughead Cooper-Jones. Are you planning on asking me to marry you every day?”

“Every day,” he breathed, “for the rest of our lives.”


End file.
